


What Was Lost

by Lire_Casander



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-14
Updated: 2008-02-19
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill Weasley is a Ministry worker sent to Hogwarts to supervise the OWLs and NEWTs. He expects to catch up with his old friend Neville Longbottom, but things are not the same anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back To You

Bill Weasley looked around at the familiar room where he stood. It had been a while since the last time he had been there, when he had come to support Harry during the Triwizard Tournament. It was true that he had fought there during the Final Battle, but those were memories he tried to forget.

He was back at Hogwarts, and hopefully his presence there wouldn't unfold a disaster. He was one of the five Ministry workers designated to supervise the OWLs and NEWTs exams that year, and though he knew he would be person non grata among the students, he expected a warm reception among the teachers, for he at least knew one far too well.

Neville Longbottom, Herbology teacher, was a man Bill had seen grow up and mature. They had fought side by side during the war; they had shared endless nights leaning in each other after that. Once the trials were over and the battles were nothing else than used memories, both of them had grown apart – Bill had accepted a job at he Ministry, leaving his post for the goblins, and Neville had gone to Hogwarts. Too many years had passed since they bid their farewells on Platform 9 ¾; there hadn't been a single day that Bill hadn't thought of Neville's blue eyes.

And there he was, in the Headmistress office, along with four of his co-workers, waiting for McGonagall to talk to them. The Headmistress was late, a trace that was not hers, and Bill was becoming nervous. When the door finally opened, he let out a sigh.

"Welcome," said a deep, male voice that wasn't McGonagall's. "Please take a seat. The Headmistress can't attend you right now as she is attending some really urgent affair elsewhere, but I'll be your Cicerone."

Bill felt how his breath caught in his throat when he recognized the owner of that voice. A very built in, gorgeous Neville Longbottom was greeting them with a smile that could rival with the sun in intensity. "It's already really late, so I won't take much of your time. As the letter stated, each of you will share a room with one of the teachers here, as you requested," Neville blinked. "I will call some house elves to help you find your rooms. Mr. Weasley," he added in his most impersonal, business-like tone. "You will be sharing with me, sir."

Bill's heart leapt in his chest, his melancholy and blues blurring as his mind registered two facts. For one, Neville sounded a bit distant, as one could have expected after all those years apart.

For two, they would be living together for a whole week.

Bill couldn't wait.


	2. Snape Alikeness

Bill followed Neville's steps around the dim-lit castle for a while, silently, as the Herbology teacher wouldn't say a thing. The red head was starting to wonder what happened, why Neville wouldn't speak to him, and was about to say anything when Neville came to an abrupt halt in front of a richly adorned door. "These are my headquarters," Neville announced, opening the door with a flick of his wand. "Please, make yourself at home." Bill entered the rooms first, following his host's indications, and looked around curiously, forgetting all his intentions to ask about Neville's weird behaviour.

The room was decorated in its entirety in black. Black curtains. Black desk. Black couches. Black wallpaper. Bill felt as if he had stepped into a Snape-induced nightmare. "Everything seems a bit..."

"Black, I know. If that bothers you somehow, I can change the colours for the week," offered the teacher at his back. When Bill turned around he could see Neville's arms folded on his chest.

"No, no, it is right. It's just that I wouldn't have expected you to be so... Snape-like." Bill realized how harsh his words may have sounded, and tried to reword his sentence, but it was too late.

"I get to hear that far too many times a day, and frankly it's getting old. But I won't say I am not flattered. In the end, Snape proved to be a brave man." Neville had spoken with such passion and respect that Bill didn't want to refute his words, even if the red head didn't feel at all compelled to praise Snape's actions during his life. "If we're about to share these rooms for the whole week, I feel like I should explain you my weird habits. I get up at---"

"The sunrise," Bill finished the sentence for Neville in an amused tone. "Neville, you lived with me for months after the war, I know what your waking hour is."

"Things have changed a lot since then," Neville retorted, eyes avoiding any contact with Bill's. "I have changed a lot, and I supposed you had too. And, well, you're here to work and I have to teach... I didn't suppose we'd be as friendly as we used to."

"Oh, Neville," Bill chuckled. "I'm here to work, yes, but exams don't start until next week, and I expected to hang out with you a bit before. You know, make up for lost times, talk, all that jazz."

Neville stiffened, his eyes finding Bill's briefly before looking back into his hands. He didn't say a thing about what the red head had said, speaking instead about the rooms' distribution. "Your room is the one at the left, that's the one I have for guests, but if you'd like to switch, I can offer you my own room. This is not very large, but it serves me well. Please, feel at home."

Bill took the hint, staring back at Neville, who had not looked at him in the eye for the entire time they had been together, and sighed. "Okay. I won't be a bother the time I'll live here, you won't even notice me." With that Bill aimed for the knob of his door, waiting for Neville to move too. When the younger man turned his back on him, Bill could see his shoulders slumped in what seemed defeat and his hands falling limply at his sides.

Bill Weasley wondered when and where the joyful boy he had once known had become the grimly man who had stood before him.


	3. Quality Time

Bill Weasley woke up to a dark room painted in black. With a groan, he tried to focus and remembered he had spent the night in Neville's guest room at Hogwarts. His eyes darted around the room before settling onto the nightstand, where some croissants and a cup of coffee were waiting for him, magically conserving their heat. Bill sat up on the bed, and stretched out a hand to take one of the croissants. He bit down to it, getting lost in its sugary texture. Chewing on it, Bill thought about the day ahead of him.

It had been him who had asked to be sent to Hogwarts a week ahead of time, so he could spend some quality time with Neville; Bill had finally come to terms with the fact that he had developed a crush on the younger man quite some years before, and he regretted not having said a word while they still shared a room at Grimmauld Place with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Now he was willing to find out whether all the signals from their younger years were only tricks of his own mind, or Neville's shy way to show him attention.

Bill remembered the faint blush on Neville's cheeks whenever their gazes met, the red in his eyes whenever the boy was reminded of his parents locked in St. Mungo's, the smile creeping on Neville's red lips whenever they crossed their paths on the corridor – red, full lips that Bill could have put to better use back then. The blood started to rush towards Bill's lower body, pooling in his groin. Muffling another groan burying his face in the pillow, Bill felt his cock harden. _How can a simple memory awake such reactions in me?_ the part of his mind that remained sane wondered. His hand ached to touch, and his groin ached to be touched, but Bill didn't find it proper to wank in a guest room, so he got up quickly and headed towards the bathroom, where he could get off without leaving any traces of his activities.

He set the water running in the shower, and stepped inside. The liquid hit his shoulders, relieving part of the tension he felt, as his right hand trailed a wet path across his chest and headed south, finding his stiff cock, fondling his balls right before starting to stroke slowly his shaft from the base to the head, smearing the pre-come mixed with the water along its length. His left hand helped him find support on the tiled wall, fingers itching to curl whilst he imagined Neville's face. His orgasm built up forcefully; he came with a moan, staining his stomach briefly, as the water took care of it.

"Oh," he heard at his back, and remembered too late that he hadn't locked the door. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were---"

Bill turned around, fully naked and thankful that his cock had softened to its normal size, to face a blushing Neville standing in the doorway of the bathroom. "I heard strange noises and the door was open and I thought... Shit!" Neville turned around and fled his own quarters quickly.

Bill Weasley was sure that the red in his face matched the blush in his host's face. "I should have locked the damned door," he scolded at himself before wrapping a towel around his waist and promptly running after Neville.


	4. A Silvery Secret

He didn't find Neville at all. The teacher seemed to have vanished from his own rooms, and Bill couldn't blame him for that. All in all, the red head had trespassed all the decency limits when he had decided to relieve himself in his _host's_ bathroom. Bill came back to the guest room, got dressed and took a sip of the still warm coffee, an only thought in his mind, not wasting a single second before going out again, this time in the pursuit of the Headmistress.

He found McGonagall in the corridors, softly talking to a First Year about the need of being quiet near the library, for there were students working there. "Minerva, may I have a word?" he asked politely once the Headmistress dismissed the student.

"Of course, Bill," she smiled. "Come with me."

He followed her to her quarters, crossing the door opened behind the sculpture which had granted access to so many generations of students asking for help. All the while Bill replayed the events of that morning, ashamed that his primal desires had taken the best of himself. "Take a seat," McGonagall invited him once they arrived at her office. "Have you already had breakfast?"

"Yes, thanks. Neville had already prepared some coffee for me," he smiled. "In fact, I'd like to talk to you about---"

"Neville, I know," she sighed. Bill tried not to seem too surprised at her sharp attention, and failed miserably. "I've seen him earlier, Bill, and although he didn't want to talk about anything, I could sense he was upset."

"It's all my fault!" Bill exclaimed. "I was… I did…" Suddenly, the prospect of confessing his physical needs to a woman was not at all promising, so he bit his lip and ended lamely. "I haven't been the perfect guest."

"You've been here for less than a day, Bill. But I suppose you should understand some things about your host." McGonagall sat down, Bill following her. "How long has it been since you last saw each other?"

"At least a decade, Minerva. We both have been busy with life, he has been teaching and I have been travelling and working under pressure. I know it's not a good excuse, but it's the truth. The last time I saw him, we both bid our farewells before the Hogwarts Express took Neville here for the first time."

McGonagall shook her head slightly. "Neville has gone through too much during these past ten years, Bill. You have to understand what he has endured in order to be able to interact with him."

"I've tried, but he locked himself in his shell! Suddenly his rooms were all black and he was so grim, I had the feeling I didn't know him at all!"

"I heard you asked for this specific task at Hogwarts," McGonagall changed the subject suddenly. "Why did you?"

Bill sighed. "Isn't it obvious, Minerva? I found the perfect way to meet Neville again, and I wasn't about to let it slip past me. There was a time… there was a time when I thought we could have been more than just acquaintances."

"I supposed so. Then, I cannot help you in your quest to understand the man Neville has become," McGonagall stood up; when Bill motioned to imitate her, she shook her head. "But I have the permission to show you this."

She moved towards one of the over-occupied shelves and took out what seemed a Pensieve. "Here, Bill. It's Neville's memory. He told me to show it to you if you ever asked about his past; he was sure you would come to me. He knew he would be unable to explain without breaking down, so he allowed his memories to speak for him."

Bill approached the table where McGonagall had already placed the Pensieve; the silvery substance swimming inside reminded him of the weird texture of the dreams he had been having for months after Neville's departure. "Can I---?" he asked shyly.

"You can dive into it, of course, Bill." McGonagall searched in a drawer for a black envelope and handed it to Bill. "This comes along with the Pensieve." She waited until the red head took the envelope in his hands and tore it open to keep on talking. "Now I'll leave you alone."

But Bill was too engrossed in reading the letter enclosed in the envelope to pay much attention to the Headmistress leaving the room. When he finished, he took deep breaths to try and calm his nervousness, letting go of the letter, which fell to the floor in a gliding. He plunged his head into the silvery memories of Neville Longbottom without a second thought.


	5. Fading Memories

Bill found himself immersed in a world that seemed familiar yet it was strangely unknown. He recognised Hogwarts grounds, where some students played in the green grass around the lake. He could see the castle, erected and majestic against the blue sky, and he could smell the spring in every bush surrounding the building. He followed the direction of the memory, only to be pulled towards the greenhouses, which seemed deserted.

Bill realised how wrong he had been when he could hear voices inside of the building, a voice he didn't recognise and the sound of Neville's words. He approached, trying to figure out what they were talking about.

"I'm telling you, I can't live like this," was saying a tall, red-headed wizard to a much younger version of Neville. "I can't stand it anymore. It's like you don't pay attention to anything I want! It's always your desires, your wishes, your wills. What do I get?"

"You know that's not true," the younger Neville in the memory retorted. "I'd do anything for you!"

"Then show me! Show me how much you care!"

Neville shook his head. "I thought it was obvious when I told you I loved you."

"Words are not enough, Neville. Words are never enough in a relationship. I want you to be the man you promised me you were, Nev, or else I'm leaving."

The unnamed red-head turned around and left the greenhouse; Neville stood where he was, before the bushes of new plants he probably had been growing to use to teach the children.

The memory faded into another, Bill assumed it was a few months later; the red-head was again at the greenhouse, bickering about some habit Neville had. "I love to stay up late, but you always have to get up early in the morning. Come on, Neville, some fun won't kill you!"

"Yes, you're right," Neville conceded. "I suppose I could stay late some nights."

"That's not enough."

Bill was beginning to be fed up with this guy always demanding that his wishes were fulfilled. He didn't understand why Neville didn't kick the jerk out.

Quickly the memories changed, fading and mixing until Bill had the dizzy feeling that Neville had been sucked in an abusive relationship. The last memory showed a prematurely old Neville, dark shadows under his beautiful blue eyes, green stains marring his fingers. He was having a row with his boyfriend in the very same greenhouse from the rest of the memories.

"You can't leave, not now!"

"You can't stop me, Neville." The red-head was already turning away.

"I love you."

"Shame I never loved you enough to get through this by your side."

"Bastard!"

"Didn't you know that was my second name?" The red-head left, and Bill knew that this time it was for real, that Neville had gotten rid of that git.

Only when Neville shifted in his position behind the bushes did Bill notice the bulge in his abdomen, and understood. But before all comprehension sank in, the Neville in the memory took the hedge-clippers and in a fit of rage and desperation, he nailed them in his abdomen. Blood covered everything in a matter of seconds, splashing against Neville's hands as he cried.

Bill felt the pulling of a finishing memory; suddenly he was back at the very same office where his journey had begun. Defeated, he took the letter from the floor and crumpled it into a small ball.

He was sure his skin had become a sickening shade of green.


	6. Dreaming In Pink

Bill hadn't seen Neville in the whole day, since the red head had been sulking in the guest room while the teacher had been working. Bill couldn't help but think about what that last memory, about shattered hopes and dreams, about the broken voice of the man who was once all smiles and optimism.

When the sun set down, Neville came back to his rooms; Bill supposed he would get ready for dinner and leave, but Neville sat down on a couch before the fireplace and stared at the flames for long moments before speaking loud enough to be heard through the slightly ajar door separating the guest room from the rest of the quarters. "Minerva has told me you've used the Pensieve. Have you read the letter, too?"

"Do you call _letter_ to that short note?" Bill replied even though his will had been to stay silent.

"It was a letter of sorts." Neville sounded so collected, so serene, that Bill had trouble in actually believing what he had seen. But he knew memories never lie, so he decided to take out of Neville some parts of the truth that hadn't been explained as of yet.

"What was his name?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does," Bill retorted, walking through the threshold and into Neville's field of vision. "I want to know his name so I know who I'm killing when I find him."

"Killing wouldn't help matters, believe me, I know."

"But it will be oddly pleasant," Bill affirmed, stepping before Neville's sitting form. "Killing the man who turned you into this… stranger you've become."

"Can't you see?" Neville snapped. "I did this to myself! When I--- when I--- I chose the black over the pink! She--- my baby--- she would have liked the pink, but I never gave to her the chance to tell me! I killed, Bill, I killed and I didn't eve regret it! I'm a monster!"

Bill took in the desperate gaze, the shaking that came along with the words almost spat with fury and sadness; he couldn't stand it, nor the hate he could hear in Neville's voice. "Listen to me," he said, putting a hand on Neville's shoulder and the other cupping his cheek. "You're not a monster. You acted on a high of feelings; it isn't an excuse but it's the truth, Nev."

"But… maybe…"

"No buts, no maybes, Neville. Just… don't forget her, but don't live in the past anymore."

"I can't…"

"I'll help you."

"How?"

Bill leant in, his nose almost nuzzling Neville's, his breath hot against that pale skin. He looked at Neville in the eye, noticing briefly that the other's cheeks had turned slightly pink.

His mouth acted on its own accord and crossed the few inches separating them.


	7. Change of Pace

Neville turned his head away, leaving Bill to kiss the air. "I--- I can't, Bill. You can't."

"Of course I can," Bill retorted, trying to get a hold of Neville once again. "Don't you want to?" Bill loot at him puzzled.

"I am tainted, Bill. You surely don't want to---"

"Neville," Bill smiled softly, his thumb caressing Neville's cheek. "Nothing you've done can make me _not_ want to kiss you. Not when I've been yearning for this for years."

"Have you?" Neville asked, his eyes stuck to Bill's lips by that moment.

"Do you want me to show you?" the red head whispered; not waiting for Neville's answer, Bill finally leant in and claimed those lips as his in a powerful kiss that made Neville thank he was sitting and not supported by his wobbling knees.

Bill didn't want to scare Neville with all his pent-up passion, so he kept the kiss as slow and soft as he could; when the younger wizard's tongue swept over Bill's lips, the red head could only oblige and open his mouth, allowing Neville to take control of the kiss.

They both closed his eyes, thus missing the room around them changing. Bill could feel Neville's magic unfolding, but he didn't see the sparks catch on the walls, melting the black and turning it into something indefinite but not at all unpleasant. Lost in the feeling of their tongues dancing such an intimate waltz, Bill and Neville forgot the world outside, Bill's hand caressing Neville's cheek, Neville's fingers tangled in Bill's hair.

When they came up for air, both panting and shivering, they noticed the walls, mixed black and yellow and red and orange, a kaleidoscope of colours that had changed not only the external appearance of the rooms but also Neville's soul, as Bill could appreciate from the light of those blue eyes.

Bill rested his head on Neville's, and both men started laughing together for the first time in ten years.


	8. Losing It

That last week of school, the students profited from Neville's renewed spirits. Teddy Lupin, who had grown up knowing Professor Longbottom as _Uncle Nev_ , was the first one to take advantage of the situation, starting a series of pranks that didn't go unnoticed to Neville after three days of blissful oblivion.

That Friday, Bill attended the First Years' class at the greenhouses with the feeling that he was intruding Neville's territory without permission. But his duty was to supervise some classes before the exams, so he complied and sat down at the back of the room with a notebook and a quill, ready to take positive notes about Neville's teaching skills.

Teddy Lupin had kept his pranks at a low profile, in order not to be caught, but that day was his last chance to cause revolution in class; he had prepared something big. At one moment, when Neville had turned towards a Hufflepuff with some problems with her Mimbulus Mimbeltonia, Teddy slipped a vial of red liquid inside the vase the teacher used to water some of his students' bushes. Once Neville finished with his student, he turned back, knocking the vase all over himself in a token of his usual clumsiness.

Bill witnessed as the red substance tainted Neville's black robes, dyeing them somewhat purple. Neville looked at his hands and groin confused; Bill could see the moment something went off in Neville's gaze, lending it an insane flicker. Bill didn't wait until Neville could get over the shock; he quickly dismissed the class except for Teddy Lupin, who he sent to the Headmistress' office, and walked to Neville, who was still looking at his hands in bewilderment and fear.

When Bill surrounded him in a tight embrace, Neville broke down in tears and wails.

"Shhh," he tried to hush Neville. "Everything will be fine, Nev. Everything will be fine..."

Bill caressed Neville's cheek, effectively calming the trembling teacher a bit. When he was coherent enough, Neville started stuttering. "All over again... she is not here anymore... not here..." His hands covered in red went over his belly, smearing the substance and turning his robes a deep shade of purple.

"It's just red liquid, Neville. Just a prank," Bill whispered. "It hasn't happened all over again. It won't happen ever again."

Neville looked up at him, wide eyes and an ache Bill could not stand reflecting in his pupils, and nodded softly. "You can't change your past, but I will help you not make the same mistakes. Calmed enough?" Bill smiled when Neville rubbed his eyes nodding. The red head used a wandless spell to clear the other's face. "Now, we have to go explain McGonagall why we have sent Ted Lupin to her, or else she'll be really mad at us."

Neville nodded again, unable to speak, and started walking towards the exit of the greenhouse, his hand slipping into Bill's for support. Thus, holding hands, they arrived at McGonagall's office.


	9. Tough Truth

The gargoyle opened for them just as they were approaching it. Bill could feel Neville trembling as they climbed the stairs. "It will be alright, Neville. Ted will be punished."

"It was only a prank," Neville whispered. "If I react this badly to a simple prank, what am I going to do?"

Bill sighed. "Nev, it was a prank to make you think you were bleeding. It was not innocent." They had reached McGonagall's door; Neville knocked on it respectfully and waited for it to open.

The office was considerably tidy, given that McGonagall was working on some exams and there were papers all over the place. The Headmistress was sat at her desk, her long fingers tapping on the wood, looking at Ted Lupin who was staring at his hands, as white as a sheet.

"Headmistress," they both greeted softly.

"Mr. Lupin here has confessed to have subjected Professor Longbottom to a practical joke with some red, blood-like substance. He has also told me that Mr. Weasley has dismissed the class," was her response, as she took in Neville's distressed appearance and the stain in his robes, which had turned from purple to brown once the liquid had dried on it.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Neville, are you alright?" she questioned. "I imagine it must have been a tough experience."

"Uncle Nev, I'm so sorry," interrupted Ted. "I didn't know you'd knock the vase, I just thought you'd water the plants, but then you almost freaked out and..."

"Language, Ted," McGonagall admonished the child. "I will write to your godfather but I also want you to write to him and explain what you've done. By the end of next week, I expect you to have learned a lesson out of this by spending every evening helping Professor Longbottom at the greenhouses. You can go now."

The kid stood up, knuckles white from balling up his fists too forcefully, and made to leave the room. bill watched as Neville stopped him and pulled Teddy into a tight hug. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me," he whispered. "I forgive you, my little Ted."

"Thanks, Uncle Nev," Teddy whispered back, tears in his eyes. "I'll tell Harry that you forgave me."

The adults waited until Ted walked down the stairs before speaking again. "Neville," started McGonagall. "Neville, I'm worried about you. I know it's been a rough year for you, ever since your... accident."

"Has it only been a year?" Bill demanded, stunned. "Didn't you have some time to recover?"

"He came back immediately afterwards, without following Poppy's advice. And this is unacceptable, Neville." McGonagall looked straight into his blue eyes. "You were not ready to come back then, and you're not ready now. I'm not saying that what Teddy has done is funny. It's a prank and he has his punishment. But, Neville, Teddy has noticed the change in you – the kids know something's wrong, and you cannot afford them discovering, not now."

"Then, what do you suggest I do?" Neville asked, taking a seat. He had not let go of Bill's hand.

"Take a sabbatical, Neville. Get some rest, visit a healer at St. Mungo's. You need to talk about what happened; and once you're ready, you can come back to your post."

"This has been my home for ten years!"

"Please, don't make a scene like Sybill. It's not a suggestion, Neville, it's an order. I know you will get over this soon."

Neville nodded slightly; Bill noticed the stiffness in his walk when the teacher stood up and headed towards the door. "I'll leave my rooms by the end of next week. Thanks for everything."

Bill looked back at McGonagall, at her tired eyes tearing up, and realised how hard it was for her to admit that Neville Longbottom needed help she couldn't provide.


	10. The Pursuit Of Happiness

Bill was seated behind Neville during the NEWTs Herbology exam, taking notes and silently following the pace of elaboration. He wasn't especially skilled in plants, but he knew he shouldn't leave Neville alone. Bill feared that the younger wizard could have another breakdown.

That particular NEWTs exam was the last one; Bill couldn't wait for it to end, even though he had to transcribe his notes and decide who passed in the following weeks. In other circumstances, Bill would have hated to work during summer, but he had an incentive to finish as soon as possible.

Having been forced to take a sabbatical, Neville was going to move in with him for the year.

The minutes ticked away and finally it was all over; the students cheered when Neville allowed them to exit the greenhouse, and the other two Ministry workers left soon afterwards. Bill stood up and ordered a bit his notes, waiting for Neville to get done with the tidying of the room. everyone already knew they were a couple, so it shouldn't surprise anyone to see them walking out of the greenhouse hand in hand.

"Fancy a walk?" Bill asked, waving towards the lake and the beautiful sights they would have from there. "I can shrink my stuff so I don't have to go back to your rooms."

Neville nodded. Bill suspected he wasn't ready to accept that Hogwarts wouldn't be his home, at least for twelve months; the red head couldn't blame Neville for being scared to leave the only place he had called his for ten years. So he had decided to help Neville in every little way he could.

They walked around the lake, under the sunny sky dyeing everything gold and blue. Some kids were sitting under the trees, talking about the summer ahead and their plans. "you have to go back to London today," Neville said, but it sounded as a question more than as a statement.

"And you'll be home with me tomorrow evening, Nev. I can't stay for the last breakfast, and you cannot skip it. But I'll be waiting for you at The Burrow after leaving my notes at the Ministry."

"How does your mother feel about... us?" Neville looked down at their linked hands. "I suppose she threw a fit when she knew I was moving into _her_ home with _her_ son."

"Living with my parents will be temporary, Nev. Just until we find a place for us; that's it, if you still want to move in with me and not go back to your grandmother's."

"Of course I want to live with you!"

"I just mean that everything has been so sudden, so rushed... I thought you'd have second thoughts or something. It's a big step, and we've been dating only a few days."

Neville smiled softly. "It's been _official_ for just a week, Bill, but how long have you been feeling like this?" He tightened his grip on Bill's fingers. "It feels right. It's the first thing to feel okay in about a year. I'm not letting it go."

Bill smiled back and took Neville in a tight embrace. Slowly, they sat under a tree in front of the lake, and the stared at the horizon. Neville got comfortable between Bill's legs, his back against Bill's chest. Some students started whispering and chuckling; Neville blushed and struggled to sit up, but Bill shook his head. "They think this is the hottest thing they'll see," he whispered. "But we can show them better."

"Bill, I don't think I---"

""Just a kiss, please. You're not their teacher anymore, and you know you want to. An innocent kiss."

Neville, fixing his gaze to the fire he saw in the red head's eyes, leant in at the same time as Bill did, their lips joining midway. The kiss lifted Bill to a heaven he didn't even know existed – they moved in synch, forgetting the sounds of the world around them, not hearing the wolf-whistling nor the snickering, just being. Bill had to close his eyes, his feelings threatening to spill through them.

When he opened them again, the sun bathing everything had lent Neville's hair a shade of gold. He sighed contentedly as the teacher snuggled up to him. Even though Bill knew the times ahead of them were not going to be easy, he was sure that they would recover what they had lost once upon a fairy tale.


End file.
